This poem… Well I actually forgot I ever wrote it. So I can’t tell you much about it I’m afraid. (To be honest, I have a lot of stuff like this lying around, that I cannot recall ever writing. Most are outright bad, some are too surreal and abstract, and other too personal to publish. But we’ll see. I might post some of them here later).
A heart’s longing
1.
I gaze up towards the broken sky,
where metallic birds roam so high.
They break the walls that used to keep us here –
The meaning of ‘distance’ since long forgotten.
Now I sit here on a bench and wait for nothing to happen;
except for my death which is the only remaining mystery.
Though that mystery will be solved in due time.
It will be too late.
When death finally enlightens my heart with the truth –
the answer to why my brothers and I were put here.
If it is not to move from one form of suffering to the next,
then why is that the only constant truth in life?
2.
Sometimes I see a small glimpse of hope beyond the haze.
Today was a day like that, a day where the extinct God smiled.
The smile was the sound of lethal heels crashing forcefully on the pavement.
A deep urge hidden within me awoke and moved my head to the right.
It was a young woman with skin of mocha coloured silk
and a physique which evoked overwhelming desires.
The light surrounding her was blurred,
as she was everything my vision allowed me to see.
My heart told me to go but my mind said ‘stop!’
Instead I sat still and watched her slip me by.
Even though she was so close to me,
the distance between us was endless.
Re-reading the poem now (honestly… I think it’s pretty bad. Did I actually write that? Wow…) I realise the two parts of the poem have a common theme. The notion and meaning of distance. The first part mentions a literal distance, that of space, saying that nothing is far away when “metallic birds” (airplanes) have broken the walls of adventure and distance. Then the narrator falls into a state of melancholia as all the mysteries of the world have been solved and he has to remain alive alone. This leads to the second part where, I guess, the same narrator sees an attractive woman that he wants to speak to. However, he is too shy, and remains silent. He then thinks about the meaning of distance again. The space between the narrator and the female is short, she is walking right in front of him, but mentally the two of them are distant. They do not know each other and are total strangers.
After interpreting the poem I can appreciate what it is trying to tell (despite its flawed execution) as I can still relate to some of those feelings. I sometimes wonder about the life of others that walk past me. How different/similar are they to me? What take do they have on life? What makes them get up in the morning? Despite them being right in front of me they are complete mysteries. Of course, I can simply talk to them and get to know them, but it is something I never do. Sometimes I regret it. It never hurts to speak to people. All that can happen is that they, and those around you, find you a bit awkward.
– F H Hakansson
F. H. Hakansson 